


The Strength of the Wolf Is The Pack

by Astraea802



Category: Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye (Web Series)
Genre: Aftermath, Between the end of the web series and the start of the podcast, Family Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, International Fanworks Day 2021, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon, Sibling Bonding, Werewolf Turning, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29484882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astraea802/pseuds/Astraea802
Summary: Paul finally figures out how to get his fangs out, making his werewolf status suddenly all too real for Artemis. Thus, the twins have a long-overdue discussion about what happened in Connor Creek.
Relationships: Artemis Schue-Horyn & Paul Schue-Horyn
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	The Strength of the Wolf Is The Pack

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! Wanted to post this little drabble for International Fanworks Day. Felt like the twins didn't really get a heart-to-heart to resolve some of the problems they had, though the podcast shows they clearly have a better understanding of each other now than they did before. This hopefully provides a stepping stone as to how they got there.

“ARTIE! Oh my God, Artie, come and see!”

Artemis snapped out of editing mode with a frown, peering around her apartment with a quizzical look as she saved the script draft on her laptop. She knew the voice had to have been Paul’s. He was the only male staying at her place at the moment. But it didn’t quite sound like her brother.

It sounded deeper. Unnaturally so. Almost as if he were a…

Artemis bolted up and dashed in the direction of the voice, when around the bend she caught a glimpse of glowing red eyes and all-too sharp teeth.

“GAH!” Artemis stumbled back, clutching her chest, heart pounding in her ears.

For a moment, she was back in Silas’s office, staring down certain death. But then –

“Artie?”

She was back in her sunlit apartment. And standing in front of her was…

“ _Paul?”_ She glanced her brother up and down. “Holy crap on a cracker.”

“I know, right?” Paul cheered, in that voice that was his yet not his. He pointed at his mouth with razor-sharp nails. “I finally got the fangs out!”

He certainly had – that, and a whole lot else. Paul stood before her in an old tank top, dark, curly fur bursting from his chest and all down his arms. His hair stood even more unruly than usual, beard threatening to take over his entire neck. But it was the ruby-red eyes and fangs that really stood out, seeming to gleam with a light all their own.

Paul was a _werewolf_.

Well, _half_ a werewolf. But still, even in this half-fledged form, he looked every bit as supernatural as Desmond and Truman had a few days ago.

Artemis shook her head, mentally berating herself. Why was she so shocked? Paul, Desmond, Truman, and all the other werewolves she’d met had confirmed Paul was one of them now. And now that she wasn’t distracted by the case, she could recognize all the differences Paul had highlighted when trying to convince her. (The day before, when she’d gone to get groceries, he’d known she was coming when she stepped out of the elevator… on the _other side of the building_.)

It was the reason he was crashing at her place for the time being. Paul had yet to decide whether he wanted to reveal his wolfiness to his roommates or not (in part because it might expose the Connor wolves, which they’d sworn not to do), and since they were all involved in the Los Angeles Paranormal Society, they would spot his “furry little problem” faster than most. So, he was avoiding them, saying he’d picked up some bug in Connor Creek and didn’t want to pass it to them, while he figured out his next move.

So intellectually, of course, she knew Paul was a werewolf now.

But this was the first time she was really _seeing_ it. Seeing that her twin, the boy she’d grown up with, wasn’t entirely human anymore.

Knowing this was _forever._

“I look pretty _fur_ -ocious, right?” Her brother’s grin faded, red eyes dimming in intensity. “What’s wrong?”

Artemis blinked, adopting her best professional voice. “Nothing’s wrong, Paul. You just startled me.”

Paul huffed. “Artie, come on, I know you better than that. What, is it not a good look on me? I admit, much as I like red, I would have chosen a different eye color. Red eyes just make me look like I’m in a bad photograph.”

Artemis forced a laugh. “No, the red suits you fine. It’s just… _weird_ , seeing you like that.” She went back to the table and sat down, a slight tremor running through her body.

“Are you scared of me?”

Artemis looked up at the change in his voice. He was back to looking like the Paul she’d always known. But she recognized the look in his now-brown eyes from the hotel room, when he had tried to convince her to leave for their own safety. From Sybilus, when he’d told them what the loss of silver would do to the wolves of Connor Creek. From Desmond, when he stared down the barrel of Madison’s gun.

She took a deep breath. Artemis wasn’t about to let her brother feel that scared and hopeless because of her. “Of course I’m not,” she said gently. “How could I be? You’re _you._ ” The one who remembered to pack snacks for when she was hangry, who reassured and validated every interview subject, who never truly got angry at anyone.

Even when he ought to be.

“Then, what?” he asked, coming to sit across from her.

Artemis tapped her fingers, choosing her next words carefully. “I just… doesn’t it _bother_ you? The implications of all this?”

“How’d you mean?”

Artemis folded her arms, shoulders hunched. “This isn’t just some cool superpower like you’ve always dreamed about, Paul. You didn’t get like this from birth, or by accident. Truman… _attacked_ you.” Her voice cracked. “She attacked _both_ of us, killed a whole lot of people, and was planning to kill even more. And now, you’re stuck with this lifelong condition, a potentially _dangerous_ one, as a reminder of her, for the rest of our lives.”

“The rest of _my_ life,” Paul corrected, twisting the silver-and-leather bracelet Desmond had gifted him before leaving Connor Creek. “I’m the wolf, remember? Unless you’ve been sprouting hair in weird places, too.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Again, _ew_.”

"And look," Paul continued, "compared to, like, _dying_ , or even losing an arm or a leg, there are worse ways I could have come out of this. As long as I have some Connor Creek silver on me, I can function fine." He shrugged. "The only really sucky thing is the diet change, but at least we live in a city where it's easy to find grass-fed beef. Plus, Des said the meat cravings should die down over time. So, I'm okay with this, Artie." He gave her a soft look. "Really."

His sister stared at him. "How do you do that? Always manage to find the bright side of things?"

Paul smiled. "One of us has to."

Artemis sighed, drumming her fingers on the edge of the laptop. "It's not just that," she said. “I’ve been comparing my notes to the audio we took. You know what keeps popping out at me?”

Paul leaned forward. “What?”

She pursed her lips. “How totally oblivious I was.”

Paul shook his head. “Artie, the whole case was so cuckoobananas, you cannot beat yourself up for not figuring things out sooner.”

“Not about the case. About you.”

Paul drew back, tucking his chin in faster than a startled turtle. “Sister say what?”

Artemis winced. “Oh god, that is so dated.” She shook it off, laying a hand over her notes. “You were right about taking this story. You were right about the werewolves. And while I was busy proving myself and getting caught up in the thrill, you were struggling with these changes on your own. I’m supposed to see things that others can’t, and I couldn’t see that. I couldn’t see _you,_ when you were _right there_.” She thumped her fist on the table, knocking her pencil to the floor. But she didn’t pick it up, instead pushing on. “And I can’t help but wonder, if we hadn’t had that stupid fight at Miner Mole, if I hadn’t driven you away, would you have…” She broke off, staring down, unfocused, at her notes. “You know, the last time Madison talked to her brother, they bickered over him running for town council?”

Paul raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah. It really ate her up inside. Even though she knew Ryan loved her, and she loved him." She took a shuddering breath. "God Paul, I just… I hate that that was almost us, too.”

_Plink. Plink-plink._

Paul caught the sound and its source inhumanly fast – his sister’s tears, falling on her laptop. “Hey, hey!” Paul pulled his chair in and leaned towards her, grabbing her wrists. “I’m still here, Artie. I… it means so much that you said all that. Seriously. But it’s not like I’m blameless either.” His thumbs stroked her wrists. “You didn’t drive me away. I _left._ We had a fight – sibs do that. And it sucks that Truman almost made that our last convo, but it wouldn't have mattered. 'Bad things don't always spoil the good things, or make them less important.'” He tightened his grip on her wrists, and Artemis could have sworn his nails sharpened just a bit. “ _I’m_ the one who should have gone with you to Miner Mole that night. Even if I was feeling underappreciated. Even if I was scared.” He ruefully shook his head. “You’re so strong, Artemis. You’ve always been stronger than me.”

“At least until recently,” Artemis added thickly, eyes still watering.

Paul chuckled. “True.” Then he sobered again. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the past few days. I realized it’s easy to forget how quickly I could lose you, because you’ve always just been there, protecting me, pushing me to be my best. I got so caught up in being part of some cool werewolf pack. But you were my pack first. I’m not a Connor and, despite the blood, I’m not really a McMahon. I’m a Schue-Horyn.”

Artemis gave him a wan half-smile. “Aw.”

“So, do you accept my… a- _Paul_ -ogy?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Artemis shook her head, laughing in spite of herself as she wiped her eyes. “Yes, I do. And I’m sorry too.” She paused, then frowned. “So… how’d you do it?”

“What?”

“How’d you,” she motioned with her fingers, “get the fangs out?”

Paul smiled, a twinkle in his eye, and stood up from his chair. “I thought of my pack.” 

He closed his eyes, and a red glow surged around his body. Fur, then claws, then fangs emerged, until finally Paul’s eyes shot open, scarlet and shining. He beamed at her with a sharp, toothy grin. “Not really so bad, right?” He said in that gravelly voice.

And this time, Artemis didn’t shudder. And even though it was still _super_ weird, Paul was still Paul. If anything, the wolf made him more of a giant puppy than he already was.

They were Schue-Horyns. Perhaps it was their lot in life to show up where they didn’t belong. But they would always belong with each other.

“Not so bad.” She said with a wry smile. “As long as you don’t shed on my couch.”


End file.
